Aoyama stepped back into the familiar, slightly chaotic sanctuary of his studio. The sterile, cold air of the Manga World headquarters felt like a distant, unpleasant memory.
He kicked off his shoes and cracked open a high-end can of premium dog food, the rich smell of beef and gravy immediately bringing Pochita running from his spot by the window. The dog didn't even wait for the bowl to touch the floor before he was diving in with a series of happy, sloppy gulps.
Aoyama slumped into his ergonomic chair, the mesh creaking as he leaned back.
Today had been a turning point. His daily routine, which had previously consisted of alternating between drawing and intense bouts of "constructive procrastination," now had a new, recurring appointment: two hours a day at LightSpeed Interactive.
Honestly, it wasn't a burden. Between his 'Drawing Kaleidoscope' and 'Hard Drive Memory,' he could finish a weekly manga chapter in two or three days of focused work. The rest of his time was spent in a state of aimless browsing or sleeping.
He was already sitting on a stack of thirty-four completed chapters for Edgerunners, while the official serialization in Manga World GoGo was only just reaching its fifteenth installment. He was so far ahead of the curve that he'd actually started drafting the early layouts for Chainsaw Man just to keep his hands busy.
Idle hands were the devil's workshop, or in this case, a mangaka's existential crisis.
He stared at the blank screen of his laptop. He didn't really need the money from the 10% royalty deal. He had no family to support, no debts to pay, and no real desire for a life of luxury. But there was something satisfying about the game, a purely "interest-driven" pursuit. He wanted to see if he could actually birth a masterpiece in this world.
"System, old fossil," Aoyama murmured, and the translucent interface bloomed into life.
The 'Impression' task had ticked up again. 21/100. The "show-off" at the meeting had clearly left a lasting mark on Ryo Shien and his lead developers.
"Listen, if I'm going to solve every technical nightmare this studio runs into, I need more than 'Game Overlord.' I need Master-level programming. Something that makes the best coders in the world look like toddlers with crayons."
[Master-level abilities are locked until the Fifth Stage of 'A Natural Talent' is fulfilled,] the System replied, its text scrolling with irritatingly calm precision. [Host is advised to continue increasing global recognition.]
"Stingy fossil," Aoyama grumbled. "What about the Fusion function? You said you could... 'influence' the outcomes."
[The Host may synthesize three Diamond-tier related skills using 3,000 points, or attempt to upgrade a Platinum-tier skill using the 'Reinforcement' Metropolisle for 1,000 points per attempt. Note: Success rates for Master-level upgrades are extremely low.]
Aoyama looked at his point total. He had enough for a few rolls of the dice. He navigated to the 'Gacha' tab. It was a dizzying display of spinning lights and shifting icons, a digital slot machine designed to drain the points of the unwary.
Primary Tier: 10 points.
Silver Tier: 50 points.
Gold Tier: 100 points.
Diamond Tier: 500 points (1% Success Rate).
Master Tier: 0.06% Success Rate.
"One percent for a Diamond? That's worse than the worst mobile games in my old world," Aoyama muttered. "But if I can get three Diamond-tier math or coding skills, I can fuse them into a Master-level logic engine."
He hesitated, then slammed his finger onto the 'Pull' button for the 500-point Diamond Gacha.
The screen exploded into a kaleidoscope of gold and purple light. The sound of digital trumpets blared in his mind, and a single, brilliant white card flipped over with a resonant chime.
[CONGRATULATIONS! HOST HAS ACQUIRED DIAMOND-LEVEL ABILITY: THE MATHEMATICAL PEARL.]
Aoyama stared at the screen, his jaw dropping. He looked at the card, then back at the "1%" success rate displayed in the corner.
"One percent? Really? One pull and I hit the jackpot?"
He looked at the interface, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face.
"Nice work, old fossil. I knew you were rooting for me."
The System remained silent, but Aoyama could almost swear the text on the screen flickered with a hint of artificial smugness. With 'The Mathematical Pearl' active, his brain felt different: sharper, more analytical. He could see the underlying logic of the world in a way he never had before.
"Time to get to work," he said, reaching for his G-pen. "Rebecca's debut isn't going to draw itself."
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]